All's Fair In Love And War: Ludakris
by Fiery And Proud
Summary: SLASH! After a mishap with a spell, Harry and Draco bury the hatchet and become friends. Part I of my trilogy. COMPLETE!
1. Spellbound

Harry Potter happily sat up in bed. There were only two days left before Christmas break, and he was _dying_ for the classes to be over.

"Wake up, Ron!" he said, drawing back the curtains around Ron's four-poster bed. Ron was sprawled across the bed, his flaming-red hair sticking up at odd angles, and his face buried in the pillow. Harry tugged at his arm.

Ron gave a muffled groan. "Don' wanna…get up…" he mumbled. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Get up, you lazy git!" he said, grabbing Ron's pillow and yanking it out from under Ron's head. He gave a strangled yelp at the sudden movement and toppled off the bed.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Ron rubbed his head. "What didja do that for?" he whined, piteously.

"Because! We're going to be late for breakfast!" Ron glowered at his best friend.

"Hyper, much? What're you so perky about?" Harry shrugged, still grinning like an idiot.

"I have no idea! I just have this feeling like something big's about to happen." Ron rolled his eyes and began pulling on some clothes.

"Whatever, Harry. If you ask me, you've had one too many Sugar Quills…" Laughter came in response. Ron suppressed the urge to roll his eyes again and followed his sugar-happy friend out of the Gryffindor Tower and down to the Great Hall.

"Morning, Hermione!" Harry said, cheerfully, sitting down across from her. She nodded, but she was absorbed in a book. Ron sat beside her and leaned over, as if to se what she was reading.

"Harry's gone nutters, 'Mione," Ron whispered, as Harry engaged Dean in an excitable chat on football. Hermione looked up in time to see him trying to demonstrate a highly complicated-looking move, which he had made up on the spot. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"What did you guys do to him?" she accused, as Harry tried to demonstrate a coffee-grinder.

"We didn't do anything! He was fine last night! He just woke up as Mr. Sunshine!" Ron replied, staring at Harry. "Do you think he's cracked?" But Hermione wasn't listening. Instead, her gaze had been drawn to the Slytherin table, where three particulars were watching Harry, sniggering. Hermione stood up, grabbed Harry before he could show Seamus a Judo Chop of Death, and dragged him over to one Draco Malfoy.

"DRACO MALFOY, WHAT DID YOU TO HARRY!" Hermione demanded, shoving forward the spastic boy. Draco smirked.

"Isn't it obvious? Harry just finally decided to come out and show you what he wants to do, deep down! Apparently, he wants to play football, breakdance, and do karate." Hermione recognized the spell.

"_Ludakris!_" she said, throwing aside her morals. Draco's face contorted into a million-dollar-smile that could have won over the whole school.

"Hi, Harry!" Draco said, cheerfully, bounding over to the Boy-Who-Lived, who seemed to be sobering up, so to speak.

"Hi, Malfoy!" He was still cheerful, but he was saying 'Malfoy,' instead of 'Draco.'

"Hey, I wanna show you something."

"What?" Harry asked, curiously.

"What a good kisser I am!" Harry smirked.

"Egotistical, much?" he said, now almost completely sober. "What, what!" Yup. Sober.

Draco grinned and stepped closer to him, wrapping one arm around Harry's waist, and pressing his lips against those of Harry "Golden Boy" Potter.

Harry opened his mouth to talk—more like to squeal in protest—but it was suddenly filled with none other than Draco's tongue. Hermione decided this would be a good time to whisper, "_Finite incantatum!_"

Draco's eyes flew open and silver met emerald in shock. Realizing what he was doing, Draco shoved Harry away, breathing heavily. A silence filled the Great Hall, and every eye was on the two. Draco, eyes still wide, wiped his mouth and fled the Great Hall.

Immediately, the deafening buzz of whispered rumors filled the Great Hall, pounding in Harry's head. He turned to Hermione. "What the heck just happened?" She smiled weakly.

"He was under a spell," she said, offering no more explanation. She felt a wave of pity for Draco, and felt he needed as much of his dignity as he could salvage.


	2. Dazed and Confused

After breakfast, Hermione did the unthinkable: She skipped Transfiguration. She hurried down the steps to the library, which was empty, as everyone was in class—or was supposed to be.

She silently strolled down the aisles, slowing her pace when she heard stifled sobs. Coming around the corner, she found Draco Malfoy curled up on the floor, his knees tucked up under his arms and his head down. Feeling the guilt well up inside her, Hermione knelt down in front of him and touched his arm. He lifted his head with a strangled gasp.

"Draco, I am _so_ sorry," she whispered, His face contorted into a hard, angry scowl.

"I can't believe you _did that!_" he hissed. She winced.

"If I had known, I would never have…" She trailed off, not really sure how to go about this. Draco seemed too upset to hold in his anger. A new wave of tears came, and Hermione pulled him into a hug.

"How long have you felt that way?" she asked softly, once Draco had quieted down. He shrugged one shoulder.

"Since last year." He looked up, his silver eyes shining in apprehension.

"What am I going to do? I'm going to have to change schools, or something!" Hermione's lips pressed into a firm line.

"You're not going to change schools! You are a Malfoy! You're going to march out there and hold your head high!" Draco gave a weak smile.

"You're right." She smiled and charmed his red eyes so that they were clear.

"Now, come on. We're late for Transfiguration. I told Harry that you were under a spell, but nothing more." He nodded and followed her up to the fourth floor. When they entered the classroom, Hermione had a brief whispered conversation with Professor McGonagall, who nodded curtly, and they both sat down.

"Why were you late?" Ron whispered. Hermione shrugged.

"I was in the library," she replied, shortly. She looked over at Harry, who was seemingly in a daze. Hermione noticed that as he was taking notes, he would absentmindedly finger his lower lip.

Smiling faintly, she began to copy down the notes. Perhaps her mistake would bring forth some good.


	3. Solitude Interrupted

Draco skipped lunch that afternoon and instead could be found outside, pacing the perimeter of the lake, the silence bringing forth his thoughts.

It had been a year since Draco had realized that his hatred and spite for the Boy-Who-Lived, one Harry Potter, was merely a mask for a deeper, more benign feeling. He discovered he had a crush on Harry.

For a few months, Draco shoved it aside, ignoring it. But it welled up inside him. Every time he saw Harry, it was like feeding wood to the flame, until it became an untamed obsession. And then that morning…

It wasn't Hermione's fault, for once, so Draco felt no hostility toward the muggle born girl. After all, she couldn't have known. Draco had underestimated her and did not think she would know the spell, much less cast it.

He also felt a sense of gratitude toward her. After all, she could have humiliated him even more. It was something he would have done. But instead she had offered him an apology, and comfort. As he stood by the lake, he made a solemn vow never to call her a Mudblood again.

Turning, he came face-to-face with none other than Hermione herself. She smiled at him. "I brought you some lunch," she said, proffering a napkin full of finger foods. He smiled gratefully, and sat down, taking the food from her.

"What are you going to tell Harry?" she asked. He shrugged one shoulder.

"Nothing." She rolled her eyes and handed him a flask of Pumpkin Juice.

"You can't just pretend like it didn't happen. The whole school saw it!" Draco winced.

"What do you propose I do, Hermione? Tell Harry that I have a massive crush on him?"

"Well, maybe…"

"Hermione, think about it. 'Hi, Harry! Yeah, about breakfast, Hermione put a spell on me, and so I did what I wanted to do most: I shoved my tongue down your throat." Hermione wrinkled her nose.

"I didn't need to know all the gruesome details," she said sarcastically. He grinned.

"I didn't find them all that gruesome." Hermione gave him a look that clearly said, "Well, _duh_."

"Anyways, who's going home for Christmas in your year?"

"Um…most of my house. My friend anyway," Draco said, realizing it for the first time.

"But you're staying?" He nodded.

"Yeah. My parents are going to New Zealand." She smiled.

"Good. Ron is going home to his parents, and I am going to Ireland to visit my cousins. So you now have a mission: When I come back, I want you and Harry to be friends, okay?" He looked nervous.

"What if he hates me?" She smiled faintly, as if remembering something.

"He won't. Promise." Draco chewed thoughtfully, then nodded.

"Okay, I'll try."


	4. Snowball Fight

"Harry, you gonna be okay on your own? I mean, Seamus and Dean aren't gonna drive you mad, are they?" Ron asked, pulling his jumper over his head.

"Ron, I promise I won't crack."

"What about Voldemort? If he comes, you won't be able to defend yourself!" Ron continued.

"I promise I won't die."

"And be sure to study your subjects!" Hermione added.

Cue eye rolling from both boys.

"I promise I won't flunk." Hermione hugged him, tightly.

"Have a happy Christmas, Harry! I'll write you!" Grinning, he waved them off and turned to head back to the warm school.

"Morning, Po—Harry." Harry looked around and saw Draco Malfoy.

"Um…Morning…Draco…" he replied, hesitantly. Draco held out one gloved hand.

"All my friends are gone for Christmas break, and so are yours, so what say we call it a truce, eh?" Harry stared at Draco. Was he on drugs?

_I_ told_ Hermione this wouldn't work_, Draco thought, disappointed. He was just beginning to lower his hand when Harry clasped it.

"Okay," he said with a brilliant smile. "Truce." Draco grinned, maliciously.

"Then just remember this is in good nature," he said. In a flash, he scooped up a handful of snow and chucked it at Harry. He laughed at Harry's shocked face, snow slipping off his shoulders.

_He looks so _natural_ when he laughs_, Harry thought to himself. Draco would throw his head back and his whole body shook.

"I-I'm sorry!" he gasped once he had stopped laughing enough to talk. "I couldn't—haha—resist!" Harry growled at him, scooping up some snow.

"Well, I couldn't resist either!" He threw hard, hitting Draco's flushed face.

"HEY!" he exclaimed, wiping the cold from his cheeks. "No fair! I only hit you on the shoulders!" Harry grinned, cheekily.

"Well, you tried to duck!" Draco grabbed some more snow and sent it flying, hitting Harry in the stomach. Harry grabbed some snow, but Draco threw a sufficiently harder snowball, knocking Harry on his back. Draco approached him when he didn't move.

"Harry, are you all r—oomf!"

With one swift sweep of his feet, Harry knocked Draco off his feet. He landed heavily on top of Harry, and Harry rolled over, straddling Draco's waist.

"Revenge is sweet," he cackled, shoving a handful of snow down the front of his shirt. Draco let out a rather girly shriek, squirming under Harry.

"AH! ColdcoldcoldcoldcoldCOLD! I give up! I give up!"

"You what?" Harry asked, seemingly deaf.

"I surrender! You win!"

"Who wins?"

"You! The Golden Boy! Almighty Harry Potter! Lord of the wonderful, beloved Gryffindors!" Harry grinned.

"You're too easy!" he laughed. Draco pouted, lsightly.

"I am not easy!" Harry rolled his eyes and pulled Draco up. "You got my clothes all wet," Draco complained. Harry wrapped his cloak around him.

"Come on. Let's get you dried up before lunchtime." Their faces flushed, the two boys stumbled up towards the castle, the bond of friendship set in place.


	5. Tell Me About Yourself

The school was particularly empty this year, so there were two tables put together to accommodate the few students and the faculty.

"Good afternoon, boys," Professor Dumbledore said, jovially. "I trust you had a good snowball fight?" He gave his notorious, all-knowing smile and nodded toward a table for two positioned right in front of a blazing fire.

"That man knows _everything_," Draco grumbled, sitting down. Harry laughed, sitting across from him. All eyes were on the two former-enemies, and immediately whispers sprung up.

"…got in trouble…"

"…made up…"

"…have to hang out…"

"…made _out_…"

But it was soon realized, thanks to a third year Gryffindor who saw them, that the once arch-nemeses had formed a truce.

"…so…I guess we should…uh…tell about ourselves, maybe…" Harry said, awkwardly. Draco swallowed.

"Well, okay. I like to read," he said.

"I like to…fly…" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"I never would've guessed," he said, sarcastically.

"Shut up. I like to take walks at night."

"I like Shakespeare."

"I like The Clash."

"The Darkness is way better," Draco said, smugly.

"No way! Those guys are ANNOYING!" Harry said, emphatically. "Wait…how do you know about them?"

"Not all muggles are useless."

"Okay…I like the Lord of the Rings movies."

"Definitely. Orlando Bloom is a babe." Realizing what he had said, Draco blushed crimson.

The conversation died. Both boys awkwardly went back to their lunch.

"So…" Harry began, hesitantly, "are you gay?" Draco ducked his head, blushing deeper red. "So…that thing with Pansy…?" Draco and Pansy had quite a reputation.

"Just so people won't know," Draco said quickly, and the subject was dropped.

"Hey, you wanna go to Hogsmeade tomorrow? I have to do some last minute shopping."

"Yeah, sure. I do, too."

"Okay, I'll meet you down here for breakfast."


	6. Ludacris

The next day, Harry got dressed quickly, wondering what on earth he was going to get his newfound friend for Christmas.

"Morning!" Harry said cheerfully, sitting down next to Draco. Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

"Did somebody put that 'Ludikris' spell on you?"

"…no…Hey, did you know there's an American rapper who calls himself Ludacris?" Draco gave him a look that implied that he was an idiot.

"Yeah, he invented the spell, genius."

"…figures some perverted rapper would come up with something like that."

"What do you mean?" Harry shrugged, taking a bite of toast.

"Well, I mean what if your deepest desire is to shag somebody! The victim gets raped, but you can just say, 'Oh, I was under a spell!'" Draco looked thoughtful.

"Eh…good thing you're too innocent to want something like that. _Angelos._" He flicked his wand and a halo appeared above his jet-black hair. Draco smirked. "You're just an angel, aren't you?" Harry reached up and pulled the halo "off" his head. As he inspected the golden band, it shrunk into nothingness.

"You're pretty good with a wand," Harry commented, finishing his eggs. Draco grinned.

"You have _no_ idea." Harry looked up.

"What…?" Draco shook his head, still snickering. Harry shrugged and stood up. "Well, come on then. Let's go!"

Draco followed him out to where the carriages were waiting for them. They got into the first carriage and drove in thoughtful silence. And then Harry got Draco's comment.

"DRACO MALFOY!"


	7. Twinship

_What on _earth_ should I get Draco?_ Harry thought to himself. _Think, Potter!_

"Hey, I'm going to get a book for Hermione," Draco said, nodding toward a small book store. Harry smiled, relieved.

"Okay…" He looked at his watch. "I'll meet you in The Three Broomsticks at one." Draco hurried off to the bookstore, and Harry strolled down the street, ducking into interesting-looking shops. He ducked into a musty shop at about a quarter after twelve.

"Hello, Lad," said a thick, Irish accent. Coming farther into the shop, Harry saw a short, cute with short, messy red hair, bright light green eyes, and a big smile.

"Er…Hi…" She grinned, knowingly.

"Doing some last minute Christmas shopping?" He nodded.

"Yeah, but we haven't been friends for very long, so I'm not really sure what to get them." The woman raised and eyebrow at the careful use of the word 'them.'

"Well, tell me about him," she said slyly, folding her arms. It worked.

"Well…he likes to read…especially Shakespeare…He plays Quidditch…"

"Anything particularly unique about him?"

"Well, his name means 'dragon' but…"

"Dragon of bad faith…" she muttered to herself.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Nothing," she said quickly, giving a smile. "Come with me. I think I have just the thing for your 'friend.'" Harry followed her to the back of the room. At the back of the shop was a plain, wooden door.

"Wait here," she said, pulling out a large ring with four different skeleton keyes. Each key, Harry noticed, had an animal curled around it: a lion, a badger, an eagle, and a snake. Taking hold of the snake key, she stuck it in the lock. Green light shone through the seam of the door, and the key hole, before disappearing with an audible click.

Smiling at Harry's amazed expression, she disappeared into the room. "Here we are!" she announced, coming out with a green velvet bag in her hand. "Hold out your hands," she instructed. Harry held up his hands and she emptied the bag.

"It's amazing!" Harry breathed, examining the enchanted object.

"I'll sell it to you for ten Galleons." Harry dug into his pocket and pulled out ten Galleons. "Don't let anyone touch it until he has," she warned.

"Why…?"

"That is for me to know and you to find out," she said, mysteriously. Harry slipped it into the bag and she tied it shut with a red ribbon.

"Happy Christmas, Lad!" she said, waving him off. He thanked her profusely and tucked the bag into his shoulder bag.

"Hey, Harry!" Harry spun and there were Seamus and Dean.

"Hi, guys. What's up?" Seamus grinned.

"Nothin'. Just looking for something for Neville. Hey, we saw Draco Malfoy in one of the shops," Seamus said, slyly. "He was looking for a last-minute present. He was looking at some pretty nice stuff."

"He said something about getting Hermione a present."

"Yeah, whatever, Harry," Seamus said, giving him a look. Harry cocked an eybrow.

"Okay…Anyway, I'm supposed to meet him at The Three Broomsticks—"

"Who's the third, I wonder," Seamus muttered to Dean.

"—so you two wanna accompany me?"

"Nah, thanks Harry," Dean said. "We'll leave you two at it." Sniggering loudly, the two walked off. Shrugging, Harry entered The Three Broomsticks.

"Did you find something for Hermione?" Harry asked, sitting down across from Draco. He nodded, pulling out a book.

"_Everything You Thought You Knew But Really Didn't About Hogwarts_," Draco said, proudly. Harry grinned.

"She'll love it." His stomach gave a loud grumble. "Man, I'm hungry," Harry complained.

"I noticed," Draco replied, a bemused look on his face. "There's a new little restaurant down the street. They have really good food there."

"Okay. And after that, let's go to Honeydukes. I need to stock up on Sugar Quills." Draco laughed and led him to an American restaurant called Twinship.

"Hey, Draco!" called a cheery, strangely familiar voice.

"Hey, Rigel!" Harry's mouth dropped.

"Who's your friend?" It was the woman from the shop, except she had different clothes on, and she had an American accent.

"Rigel, this is Harry Potter. Harry, this is Rigel Burrows. Rigel, hook us up with some wings?" Draco asked, grinning rather evilly.

"Sure thing, Dray." She hurried off, and Draco and Harry sat down at a table.

"Draco, that woman…I _just_ talked to her. She helped me find a present, except she had an Irish accent!" Harry muttered. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Don't you use your eyes? Let's think…This restaurant is called Twinship…" Harry blushed.

"Shut. Up." He looked up and saw the first woman come in. She flashed a smile at him and hurried over to her twin.

"That's Orion. We call her Rio, though." She and Rigel came over, carrying a large tray of orange chicken wings.

"Draco, that chicken is orange," Harry said, eyeing it with suspicion. Draco snickered.

"It's a sauce, oh brilliant one." He daintily picked up a piece of chicken and bit into it, closing his eyes briefly to savor the flavor.

"Rio, draw some water," Rigel instructed as Harry tentatively picked up a piece of chicken. Smirking, Draco polished off his first piece and started on a second. Not to be outdone, Harry took a large, rather saucy bite.

"It tastes tangy, almost…" Harry's eyes flew open as the full force hit him. "SPICY!" Harry screamed, jerking violently, almost toppling backwards as the power of Hot n' Spicy Buffalo Wings hit him.

Draco _did_ toppled over. He was laughing so hard that he was on the floor in convulsions.

"DRACO MALFOY!" Harry shrieked, after he had chugged the glass of water Rio had drawn.

"It's on the house, Draco," Rigel said. Draco jumped up and burst out with a breathless thanks, Harry right behind him.

"Talk about cute!" Rio said once the two boys had run out.

"Talk about a huge crush!" Rigel agreed.

"Harry came into my shop. He was looking for a present for Draco, unless he knows someone else with a name that means dragon."

"What did he end up buying?" Rio grinned.

"One of your creations, actually. I thought it fir the occasion. Besides," she added, her voice suddenly serious, "I think Dray is gonna need it."

"Yeah. Once his bastard father finds out, he's gonna need all the help he can get."


	8. Ticklish, Much

"You little snitch!" Harry exclaimed when he had caught up to Draco at the Shrieking Shack. "You knew damn well I'd never had those before! I can't believe you let me eat those!"

"How was I supposed to know you'd never had them?" Draco asked, trying to feign innocence. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, you would've known eight about the point when I stupidly said, 'That chicken is orange.'" Draco grinned.

"Well, you could just be stupid." Harry growled at him, then tackled the pale, laughing boy.

"Who're you callin' stupid?" he growled, sitting heavily on Draco's stomach and pressing him back against the snow.

"I believe it was yo—ACK!" He interrupted himself with a shriek. Harry stared. He barely brushed his hand against Draco's waist, experimentally. Draco stifled—not-so-successfully—a giggle. Harry gave a slight prodded. Draco let out a squeak.

Harry grinned maliciously, and surveyed Draco, his arms folded. Neither said a word, and Draco was silently praying that Harry was feeling rather dim-wit—

"AH! CheatercheaterCHEATER!" Draco squealed, squirming as Harry tickled him, relentlessly.

"Aw, is ickle Draykie-poo _ticklish?_" Harry cooed, adding salt to the wound.

"NO! Don't! Potter, you're going to be in so much—"

"So much _what?_" Harry quipped, prodding a rather sensitive spot near his belly button.

"—so much friggin' TROUBLE!" Harry was laughing to the point of hyperventilation when Draco managed to shove him off. The positions were switched, and Draco grinned evilly. Harry smiled back at him, unperturbed.

"That was SO funny!" he said, grinning. Draco glared at him.

"Let's see how funny it is when you're_ the_ victim!" Harry grinned, knowingly.

"I'm not ticklish." Draco faltered.

"What?"

"I'm not ticklish," Harry repeated. Draco prodded him uncertainly. No reaction.

"Damn it, Potter!" he exclaimed. He folded his arms and stuck out his lower lip in a pout. "That's really unfair," he whined, looking quite adorable.

_Adorable?_ Harry thought, mildly. _Where did _that_ come from?_

"Come on. Let's go to Honeydukes. No, wait," he amended, as his stomach grumbled, "let's go back to Twinship. I'm still hungry."

Draco grinned. "The look of shock on your face when you took a bite shall remain forever emblazoned in my memory, Potter," he said, wistfully reminiscing.

"Shut up," Harry growled, pushing the Slytherin off. "Let's go." Draco stood up and slowly brushed off the snow that covered his clothes—slowly, so as to annoy Harry—before following him to get food.

"What'll it be, boys?" Rigel asked. _Wait, is it Rio?_ Harry mused. The woman sported an Irish accent, _but Rio works at that shop…_

"A cheeseburger for Mr. Potter, and some hot wings," Draco ordered, smirking at Harry.

"_Hot?_ You mean those weren't hot _enough?_"" Harry asked incredulously. Draco grinned.

"Nope. You only had the mild wings." Harry glowered at him.

"Shut up."


	9. Confessions of a Teen Queen

"Well, today was fun," Draco commented. The two were in the empty Gryffindor common, where Draco got permission to stay since all the Slytherins were gone.

They were lying on the hearthrug in front of the fire. It was ten minutes to midnight.

"Yeah, I'm sure you found it _quite_ amusing," Harry replied, grudgingly. Draco rolled his eyes, but laughed.

"Hey, you had your revenge!" Harry grinned at the memory.

"Who'd have thought that Draco Malfoy would be ticklish?"

"Shut up." Harry laughed. "That's wasn't fair, either," he added, "considering you're _not_ ticklish."

"God loves irony," he replied, airily.

Harry never spoke a truer word.

"So, um, at breakfast the other day…Why did you…you know…" Harry trailed off, awkwardly. Draco winced; he'd been dreading this question.

"Well, Harry, Hermione threw caution to the winds and cast a spell on me which, unbeknownst to her, caused me to do the most humiliating thing possible."

"What spell did she cast?" Draco muttered something incoherent. "What?"

"…_Ludikris_…" Draco mumbled. Harry's eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"So, you mean…?" Draco shut his eyes and began to ramble.

"_Yes,_ Harry, that's _exactly_ what I mean. Ever since last friggin' year, I've had a major crush on you, and my deepest desire was to kiss you."

When he opened his eyes, Harry was lying on his side, looking down at Draco. Smiling at the open, I-just-spilled-my-guts-so-I'm-fearing-the-worst look on his face, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips against Draco's.

He pulled away, and Draco's eyes were as wide as humanly possible. Harry noticed the clock above the mantle. It was twelve o'clock.

"Happy Christmas, Draco."


	10. Happy Christmas

Morning found Harry and Draco snuggled up on the couch, Harry's arm around Draco's slim waist.

"OY!" shouted a most unwelcome Seamus Finnigan. "It's bloody well about time!" Harry and Draco jerked awake. "_Told_ you they'd get together by Christmas!" Dean groaned and shoved a handful of Sickles into Seamus's hand.

"Anyways, it's Christmas! Everyone's already opened their presents. Yours and Draco's are upstairs. We'll meet you at breakfast!"

When they were gone, Harry glanced blearily down at Draco. "Did you catch anything he said?" he asked, groggily.

"Not much, but I heard something about presents!" Draco exclaimed, rocketing off the couch and bounding up the stairs.

Harry followed (quite a bit slower) and found Draco sitting on Ron's bed, staring in amazement at a massive, glittery pile of Christmas gifts. He looked like—well, like a child at Christmas.

"What's up?" Harry asked, sitting on his own bed.

"It's so HUGE!" he breathed. Harry laughed.

"Don't you get this many gifts usually?"

"Nope," Draco said, shaking his head. "I get like four things."

"Well, go on then! Open 'em!" Harry encouraged, picking up his present from Hermione. Tearing it open, he saw that it was a book of beautiful paintings. They were by an artist named Vic Fitzgerald, and they were all of historical Quidditch moments.

"Look!" Draco exclaimed, excitedly. "I got a present from Professor Lupin!" He picked up a note attached to the package. "_Glad to see you and Harry have made amends. Happy Christmas, R.J. Lupin._"

"What is it?" Harry asked. Draco opened it. It was a long, thin silver flute with a gold-filigree snake curled around it. Draco played a quick tune on it and the sweet music rang through the room, entrancing Harry.

"I can't believe he remembered!" Draco breathed.

"Remembered what?"

"In third year, when we faced the Boggart, my greatest fear was not being able to play my flute." He played another tune, and grinned. "Even playing it wrong, it sounds good!"

They continued opening presents, Draco all the while still amazed at the people he was getting them from. He got a very nice quill and ink set from Sirius, and an odd alarm clock that would play a tune according to the mood he would be in that day—a benefit to himself, and his dorm mates—which he got from Dumbledore.

He got a book on dragons from Hermione, and he even got a Quidditch book from Ron. All in all, he was ecstatic by the time he picked up his last present.

Untying the red ribbon, Draco reached into the velvet bag and pulled out a silver dragon. Intricate runes and long-forgotten languages trailed down its slim body. Draco watched in amazement as the dragon yawned and stretched, turning brilliant emerald (literally) eyes on him.

"Do you like it?" Harry asked nervously, as Draco watched it zoom in circles above their heads. Draco's jaw dropped.

"_You_ got it for me?" he gasped. "Harry, it must have cost a fortune!" Harry smiled, pleased that the Boy-Who-Had-Everything was worrying about how much it cost.

"Actually, Rio gave it to me for ten Galleons. I'm pretty sure she discounted it, 'cause I can't imagine it _really_ cost that little!" Draco nodded, knowingly.

"Rio and Rigel are like the older sisters I never had," he agreed. Then he leapt at Harry and flung his arms around Harry's neck. "Thank you SO much!" he exclaimed. Harry hugged him, and he felt a warm wetness on his neck.

"Hey, why are you crying?" Harry murmured, rubbing his back, soothingly. Draco grinned, sheepishly.

"It's just that…Well, all my life I've obeyed my father's stupid rules, and now that I've broken his number one rule—_to the extreme_, I might add—it seems like nobody hates me. I've gotten gifts from half the Gryffindors, faculty, and even people I've never really met!" He sighed and snuggled into Harry's chest. "You really are the Golden Boy."

Harry picked up his last gift. It was a gold band with a ruby, a diamond, and an emerald on it, and the word _Angelos_ embossed on the inside. Wordlessly, Harry kissed the top of Draco's head, and Draco sighed contentedly as he slipped it on Harry's slim finger.

"You're _my_ Golden Boy."

_Finir la Partie l'Un_


End file.
